Sam SLASH Frodo?
by Eternalight
Summary: Mere months after Frodo and Sam's return to the Shire, their lives seem to have finally returned to normal. That is, until Samwise find out about their "Fangirls", and what goes on in their heads. -Pure Lighthearted Humor- *NO SLASH!*


(c: Frodo, Sam, The Green Dragon and all other titles and names that were listed here are not mine. I am not claiming credit for anything at all, just this silly little story I created. These people and places are not mine, they belong to their creator, J.R.R Tolkien. :) So don't think that I own them, because I don't. So no sueing please.)

**_Rating:_** I would believe it to be K-ish. K+ at the most. Only because of suggested things.  
**_Characters/Relationships:_** Frodo and Sam. ***NO SLASH!*** (No...really. I'm serious.)  
**_Warnings?:_** None at all. Although this story may cause Slash shippers to get their panties in a bunch. (And what Sam is whispering could be taken differently than what I had in mind orginally.)  
**_Word Count:_** 1,828.  
**_Notes:_** This is another Frodo and Sam fan fiction that is somewhat based on a Supernatural episode. Although it's just somewhat really. Because the main idea, the Hobbit Brother's reaction to Slash Shippers, is based on Sam and Dean's reaction to their OWN Wincest shippers out in the world, from the episode "The Monster At The End Of The Book." I think.

Some of the dialog is based on that episode, as you can tell. But I changed it a bit to make it more enjoyable. And secondly, let me say that I am **_not_** bashing Frodo/Sam slash shippers, guys. Yes I hate the fact that people ship them together romanticly, because I don't believe them to be that way, but in this...I'm only mearly poking fun and stuff. 'Twus the last S&D idea I had. So from now on it will all be orginal ideas...but until then. Enjoy.

* * *

Frodo sat in a chair in the study of Bag End. His arm was resting uncomfortably on the writing table, and his chin sat in the palm of his hand. His free hand was in the middle of turning the quill of his pen in his fingers for what seemed like the millionth time that one afternoon. He sighed heavily as he shook his head in frustration. Trying to think of how to begin his own tale in the Red Book was far more difficult then he first realized it to be.

Should he start from the very beginning where his friend Gandalf first came back to the Shire after a long absence? Or, he thought suddenly…should it begin at Bilbo's party where his uncle first disappeared using The One Ring and how that very action began the long spiral down to their journey? Or, of course, he could always skip seventeen years ahead and start the tale where him and Sam actually started the journey, to the town of Bree and onward.

Frodo leaned back in his chair, and placed his hand on his head and slapped it a few times. He had to start somewhere. After ten minutes of thinking, he decided to go with Gandalf's appearance.

He put the quill pen to the paper and began to write out the first sentence that would, he hoped, produce something worthwhile. He had not managed to get past the letter "T" when a loud knocking came to his ears, making them twitch at the sound.

He sat there and shrugged as annoyed thoughts rushed in his head. _'I finally have a beginning. I don't want distractions, nor do I want to forget it. Just shoo. Come back later, please!'_ He waited until it had quieted down until he allowed himself to start again.

Once again it only took a moment for the knocking to continue, and this time at a louder rate, and showed no sort of signs of stopping anytime soon. Frodo dropped his pen in a flash and was up and heading to the door with an angered expression. He was not in the mood for these sorts of things today! He flung the door of Bag End open, ready to scream "What do you want!" to the visitor.

But the word died upon his lips the moment he saw Samwise standing up against the doorframe. He looked as though he just ran from the Shire to Rivendell and back again, and pale as though he had spotted a surviving Nazgul, expect for the blush that was deep on his cheeks. Frodo looked at the sight for only a second before he spoke up.

"Sam? What is the matter?"

Before Frodo could walk to his side, Sam stood straight and looked at Frodo with a concerned expression written onto his face.

"Mr. Frodo. I think we need to talk."

Frodo blinked at the voice that his friend used, he only used it when he was dead serious; and then nodded after a moment, waving him in the door.

"'Course, of course. Come in. I will prepare us some tea, while you explain."

---

"So, Sam. Tell me, what on earth is on your mind that makes you look so troubled?"

Frodo asked after sometime, his back was to Samwise while he handled the teakettle, he lifted it up and came to Sam's side. Frodo noticed that he was fiddling uncomfortably with the teacup.

He leaned down and poured the tea into both of their cups and sat down at the opposite side of the table, only then did Sam speak up. His words were choppy with many awkward pauses.

"Mr. Frodo. Are you aware that we have…hmm…fans?"

Frodo raised the cup to his lips and sipped it with a small smile. "Fans, Sam? I wasn't aware that much of the Shire knew what went on."

"Oh yes, they do sir!" Sam shouted and slammed his hand down in emphasis of the seriousness of what he was saying to Frodo.

"Word must have reached their ears, because I was at the Green Dragon Inn, ordering a drink, if ya' follow me. And then before I knew wha' had happened, two young Hobbit lasses were behind my seat and giggling something fierce!"

Frodo found that he was quietly laughing at Sam's description, and then spoke up trying to talk logic into him. "Well, perhaps they were admiring your talents, you said they were fans."

"Yes! I think so, Mr. Frodo! But I don't think that was tha' only reason they were watching me!"

Frodo only let out a muffled "Hmm?" in response from behind the teacup, encouraging him to go on.

"Well sir, I heard 'em discussing, discussing both of us…and the journey. Do you know that there are such lasses called 'Sam girls' and 'Frodo fans'? They call themselves that, you see, to show who they like…and there are—" The words fell short on Sam's lips.

Frodo had now leaned forward, his teacup was now lying on the table and his hands were placed in front of his face.

"'And there are', Sam? And there are what?" He spoke softly with an amused smile, giving him time to explain.

Sam glanced about, avoiding his friend's piecing blue eyes as he spoke the next few words.

"And…'slash' fans it seems."

Frodo blinked, and thought for a moment. Trying to figure out what exactly he meant, he had never heard that word before, even when he was around Gandalf and listened to his incredible knowledge of the world. He looked up at Sam with an expression that registered only pure confusion.

"Wha--What's a slash fan, Sam? I have never heard of that word before, I don't believe. What does it mean?"

Sam leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, a reaction he only did when he was clearly unpleased. The words from his lips came out smooth and clear to the Hobbit before him.

"As in…Samwise Gamgee "slash" Frodo Baggins. *_Together_.*"

It was in that moment that Frodo was thankful that he was not holding anything, because he knew that he would have dropped it and it would have shattered onto the floor in pieces. His eyes widened at an amazing rate when he looked up at Sam.

"Wait—Wait…do you…you cannot possibly mean…'together' together…like you are with Rosie…can you?"

"I do, sir."

Frodo's mouth hung agape slightly as his face turned a bright red. He couldn't be hearing this, there had to be some mistake!

"These 'Slash" fans, Sam. Are they aware that we are friends? Best friends even? And…are not like they say…at all?" His voice faltered a bit, making his words seemed to come out as badly as Sam's had.

Frodo looked up, from glaring at his shaking hands that had fallen onto the table for a few seconds, and noticed that Sam looked almost physically ill. Neither of them was taking this sort of 'news' that easily.

"It…really doesn't seem to matter to them Mr. Frodo…"

Frodo winced and stood up at an incredible fast rate. An expression of horror crossed his face as he paced the kitchen room and began to ramble to himself, forgetting that Sam was present there with him.

"I—I…Dear sweet Elbereth! That is just sickening! How could these so-called 'fans' think that way about both of us! We are not like that; we do not share that sort of relationship with one another! Why, yes I care about you in a familial way...but for people to think...why, the very nerve of---"

Sam cleared his throat to bring Frodo's attention back to reality. Sam felt bad enough, as it was, to upset his friend in such a way, but the torture was not all the way over just yet.

"Mr. Frodo, I am afraid that that was not all there was to be said, sir. The lasses that were behind me, you see…they were curious about us…"

Frodo stopped and turned; not entirely sure if he was ready to hear more.

"Yes?"

"They were curious ta' know something about us, they wondered if we…hmmm."

Again Sam felt the awkwardness and small blush creep up upon him and at that moment he knew no simple way to tell Frodo what they asked of him. He motioned with his hand for Frodo to come at his side, and he nodded his head and sat down so that Samwise could whisper in his ear.

He regretted it almost immediately.

A blush the color of the very lava's of Mount Doom came across Frodo's face, reaching all the way to his pointed ears, and he leaped away from Samwise and let out a scream of pure terror that shook the very halls of Bag End itself.

"No, NO!" He screamed. "We did no such thing!"

Sam only shrugged at this reaction, his own horror having passed long ago, and yet he expected this from Frodo.

"I was as surprised as you were when they asked me 'bout it too, Mr. Frodo. I believe that the Green Dragon will have to clean up a nice pint of ale off their floor…"

Frodo could not take this madness any longer. He placed both of his palms on the table and looked directly into Sam's eyes.

"Sam, you told me that these women were at the Inn?"

"Aye?"

"Are they still there? I wish to have a…hmm...word with them about certain matters."

Sam nodded in reply right away, catching onto what he wanted. "Yes, yes they are still there."

"Good. Good. Now if you will excuse me Sam, I will not be long."

Frodo left the room and headed for the rounded door of his home, Sam followed him right away and called out to him as he cracked it slightly.

"Mr. Frodo. Wait a moment." Frodo looked back at him and barley saw Sting flying through the air. With a quick gasp he reached his arm up and grabbed it with his right hand.

Sam locked eyes with him and gave him a quick grin. "I think you will be needing this. They are far more frightful than you may think."

Frodo matched his grin with one of his own, and nodded his thanks. He went out the doorway, cursing something or another that Sam could not hear under his breath…but Sam knew Frodo good and well to understand that whatever was said was not at all pleasant. His direction turned towards the Green Dragon, and Sam watched him raise Sting and disappear from sight.

Sam stood there in front of the cobblestone walkway and breathed a small sigh of mixed annoyence and relief. At that moment, the Hobbit knew that it was in the best intentions that he would not try and tell Frodo of the information of the _other_ numerous "Slash" relationships that he had heard over the time whilst in the company of the Fellowship of the Ring.

* * *


End file.
